Serpent's Kiss
by SlytheringAeval
Summary: After witnessing Nagini’s attack on Arthur Weasley, Harry discovers that his connection with Voldemort is changing, and so is he. Now he must discover what the changes mean and figure out how to protect those closest to him from his newly awakened instinc
1. Prologue

Title: Serpent's Kiss  
Author: SlytheringAeval  
Chapter : Prologue  
Pairings: Harry/Draco, others as story progresses  
Rating: R (subject to change if story progresses)  
Genre: Romance  
Disclaimer: I do not make any money off of this, I do not own this, nor do I claim to. All characters herein belong to J.K Rowling and no infringement is intended. It's all in good fun, honest.

* * *

"Harry dear are you all right? You look ever so pale…"

Pale? How could he possibly be pale? Surely his face was red his cheeks flaming from the fever that was working it's way into his system. Distantly aware of Mrs. Weasley's fussing he allowed himself to be banished to his room. He didn't look at his friends, didn't want to see their revulsion now that they knew he Voldemort could control him, that he was the one who nearly killed their father. He walked to the room he shared with Ron without another word to anyone, his mind tripping over the conversation he'd overheard with the twin's extendable ears.

Voldemort was possessing him? No, that wasn't right, he couldn't be. Heat rushed into his face again at the fear he'd on the Weasley's faces when they'd heard Moody's pronouncement. He heavily sat on the edge of one of the beds, resting his head in his hands. But how did he bite Arthuer Weasley? The air was gathering in his mouth like a thick blanket. He could barely breathe, never mind think, but he forced his brain to try and make sense of the words, the unnamed feelings that were swirling in his head. He wasn't an animagus.

"If Voldemort is possessing me, then he can see… everything…I'm giving him a clear view into Order headquarters right now…" He would have to leave Grimmauld place. Maybe Voldemort was an animagus and that was how Harry had bitten Arthur. He heavily pushed himself to his feet, the room swaying as the stuffy air engulfed him, dragging at him, pulling him down.

Dizzily he looked around for Hedwig, but the pulsing heat was pushing up through the top of his mouth spreading out in tendrils that snaked into his brain. Wait, Hedwig was at Hogwarts- snakes eat birds don't they?-he stumbled toward his trunk.

"Running away are we?" a thin sneering voice.

"No, not running," Harry said, the words burning on his tongue. He was so thirsty. A nice cold glass of milk sounded wonderful. No, not milk, pumpkin juice. No one drinks milk in the wizarding world.

"I thought to belong in Gryffindor house you were supposed to _brave_?" The insufferable portrait that shared a space in Dumbledore's office was staring at him with amusement. Phineas Black was an oily looking character and had been a Slytherin before becoming the Headmaster of Hogwarts during his time. "It looks to me like you would have been better off in my own house. We Slytherins are brave, yes, but not stupid. For instance, given the choice we will always choose to save our own necks."

"It's not my own neck," Harry swayed, "I'm saving." It was the others. He had to protect the others. There was something in him, something dangerous that was trying to burn its way out of him, and if it escaped it would hurt those he cared about too much.

"Oh, I see. This is no cowardly flight- you are being _noble_."

Harry turned around and walked back toward the bed over which the picture hung. Phineas spoke again, watching him with a lazy look of indifference on his face.

"I have a message for you from Albus Dumbledore."

"What is it?" Even with his glasses Harry was having a hard time focusing his eyes. They were so heavy.

"Stay where you are."

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed and stared up at the oily man. His head was pounding in time to the waves of warmth that were spreading through his body. Staying where he was sounded like wonderful advice. He flung his body down to the bed, facedown upon the moth eaten covers., his eyes shut, his body heavy and aching…

As if on cue he found himself walking down a deserted corridor toward a plain black door, past rough stone walls, torches and an open doorway onto a flight of stone steps leading downstairs on the left… The black door, when he reached it could not be opened, and he stood there gazing at it desperation. There was something he wanted, no needed behind that door…

"Harry," Ron's voice came from far, far away. Harry's brows drew together. Ron couldn't be that far away. He tasted so close to Harry, he had to be standing right next to him, right where the warmth was. Warmth. He wasn't so unbearably hot now. But Ron's warmth was leaving him. "Mum says dinner's ready but she'll save you something if you want to stay in bed."

When Harry managed to pry his eyes open Ron was gone.

_He doesn't want to be on his own with me, not after what he heard Moody say…

* * *

_

Chapter end notes: The first chapter of my first serious HP fic, I do hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 1

Title: Serpent's Kiss  
Author: SlytheringAeval  
Chapter : Chapter 1  
Pairings: Harry/Draco, others as story progresses  
Rating: R (subject to change if story progresses)  
Genre: Romance  
Disclaimer: I do not make any money off of this, I do not own this, nor do I claim to. All characters herein belong to J.K Rowling and no infringement is intended. It's all in good fun, honest.

* * *

'Why is it so hot in here? It's never hot in the dungeons.'

Harry leaned heavily on his desk, his head cradled in his hands. It was happening more and more often, and becoming more painful each time it did so. The familiar and unwelcome heat spread through his mouth, burning the sensitive skin of his throat, settling against his lungs like a weight. He forced himself to breath deeply, hoping that it would go away if he just ignored it hard enough.

It pushed up through his mouth, sharply into his cheekbones, and spread. His skin was burning, feeling as though he'd been out in the sun for hours with no protection. Neither the usual frosty gloom of the potion's workroom, nor Snape's glacial displeasure was penetrating the burning haze that was sliding through his body. He heard Snape's voice coming from a great distance, taking points from Gryffindor, but couldn't bring himself to care. The heat is demanding his attention and it's just too much. He should be blistering and cracking from the blaze that is slowly consuming him.

'I can't breathe!'

Harry stood up, not caring where he was going, knowing only that he. Had. To. Get. Away.

The searing heat spiked through his legs causing his muscles to seize up. Harry was distantly aware of catching himself on the edge of a desk. The world swam in and out of focus. Even the blood on his hands was burning up, but Harry couldn't be bothered to care about that. There was something else that tugged at him, demanding his attention, an incredible scent that filled his mouth, cooling the heat that gathered there in lapping waves.

'What a wonderful taste,' he thought muzzily before the ground rushed up to greet him.

* * *

Hermione stared worriedly from behind her text book. Harry was looking too pale and his eyes were too bright. Sweat beaded his temples. She couldn't imagine anyone sweating in the cold dungeons where they gathered for Potions. And he didn't seem aware of his surroundings. She'd seen Ron grab his arm to keep him from walking into a wall before class while they were making their way downstairs.

Harry had been behaving oddly every since that night that Ron's dad had been attacked by Voldemort's snake. He'd been better after they had managed to convince him that they weren't avoiding him because of what Moody said about Voldemort possessing him. But even so there were times when he was withdrawn, and there was a faraway look in his eyes as though he wasn't truly seeing what he was looking at. Even more worrying was the fact that no matter how much he seemed to eat he continued to lose weight.

Hermione winced when she noticed Snape's assessing gaze sweep over the Gryffindors in class. Snape's eyes lit on Harry, picking up on his inattention with malicious glee.

"Let's see if everyone has done their homework. Tell me Mr. Potter, what is the ingredient most commonly found in antidotes for magical venom?"

His lips formed words, but no sound came from her friend's mouth. Hermione stuck her hand in the air hoping Snape would see how obviously unwell Harry was feeling and allow her to answer the question. No such luck.

"No answer Mr. Potter?"

Harry's eyes closed and he shook his head.

"Five points from Gryffindor for Potter's inability to answer the most simplistic question of the lesson. Mr. Malfoy, would you care to give us an answer?"

"The venom of the creature itself, sir." Malfoy responded promptly. He turned around in his chair to toss a malicious smirk in the Gryffindors' direction. The smirk froze in place, fading into a look of concern that startled Hermione enough that she stared at the blond. He caught her staring and sent a sneer in her direction before his eyes flicked back at what he had been staring at. Or rather who.

Hermione twisted around in her seat to look at Harry, along with everyone else when he suddenly lurched from his seat. Voices raised in shock all around the class room as Harry began to stumble toward the door. Snape turned around in time to see Harry getting up.

"He looks really sick," Neville whispered in a nervous voice.

"Harry?" she asked at the same time Ron said, "Mate?"

"Potter," Snape asked, his eyes fixing on Harry, "is there a problem?"

Harry's shoulders began to shake as he began to cough. Finally Snape seemed to realize that something was seriously wrong with Harry, that he wasn't acting up to get attention. Lavender and Parvati stared at Harry with a horrified expression. They both began to scream as Harry sank to his knees in the aisle between the desks. His hand went to his mouth as he doubled over and came away covered in something slick and red.

* * *

"How did this happen?" Sirius Black demanded, his low voice reminiscent of his dog form's low growl. Remus Lupin placed a restraining hand on his arm but his eyes were just as accusing as he stared around at the room's other occupants. Albus Dumbledor, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape, all teacher's of Hogwarts, along with Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, were gathered in the Headmaster's office with the two 'guardians' of one Harry Potter.

"None of us knows how it happened, Black," the Potions Master sneered at his long time rival. "If we did we would know what was wrong and how to fix it."

Sirius's lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl, he seemed ready to lunge for Snape's throat.

"Enough you two," the med witch interrupted before a fight could break out between the two men. The disapproval in her voice was blatantly clear. "Harry has been poisoned, and unless we can figure out what was used, that boy will die. Your petty sniping is not helping him."

"How is he, really?" the transfiguration teacher, and head of Gryffindor asked, sharp eyes snapping up to fix on Pomfrey's face. The nurse looked suddenly tired, a helplessness weighing down her shoulders.

"He's dying Minerva. The antidotes Severus has been brewing have been slowing the effects of he poison, but none have been the correct antidote."

Snape twitched his shoulders, obviously unhappy to have his failure so blatantly pointed out.

"And I'm not going to be able to brew the right cure until we know what kind of poison it is. Have we heard anything new from St. Mungos?" Snape asked the nurse, pointedly ignoring the two men standing by the fireplace. The nurse shook her head.

"They've analyzed the samples that were collected, but the only thing they've been able to do is confirm that there is poison in his blood, not what kind. They say they can't do anything more unless we take Harry to them for further testing," she finished bitterly."I refused to let them take him back with them when they came to get the samples. Umbridge is working on getting permission from Fudge as we speak to override my authority over patients so that he can be sent there."

Snape pursed his lips in disapproval. "Even moving him to the infirmary increased the flow of the poison through his system. Apparrating or using a port key with him in such a weakened state would kill him outright."

"But Fudge would be seen as doing something, and that's really all he cares about anymore," McGonagall added scornfully before her voice hardened. "I won't let them put one of my students in danger!"

"Not even Fawkes's tears have been enough to heal him," Dumbledor spoke softly, his eyes staring into space as they had been since the small group had convened in his office. The quietly spoken words captured everyone's attention. The headmaster was not smiling benignly about the room, there was no reassuring twinkle in his eyes. Everyone listened silently as he continued. "He gets better for a few hours, but then succumbs to the effect of the poison again."

"Do you mean someone keeps poisoning him after he's been cured," Remus asked in confusion.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher were you?" Snape asked in a silky, taunting voice. "I'm sure if you stopped to think about what you just said that you would realize exactly what's wrong with that idea."

"Then what happened? Someone poisoned him and then cast a curse to prevent it from being removed?" Sirius sneered. Then a thoughtful frown pulled his lips and he seemed to consider his words. Indeed the thought was not so ludicrous spoken aloud as it had sounded in his head. Weren't there similar spells that his own family had used to great effect when he had been growing up? He looked ill.

"It does seem as though something is anchoring the poison in his body," the Headmaster allowed in a serious voice, his eyes finally fixing on Harry's godfather. "Almost as though the poison were coming from within."

"But we haven't found any traces of lingering spells on his body," Pomfrey pointed out.

"I wonder if it needs to be a spell?" the Headmaster's gaze returned to the spot he had been staring at previously. "Perhaps we became so focused on one possible danger that we completely overlooked the possibilities of any others?"

"What do you mean Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked harshly.

"The first signs of Harry falling ill began shortly after the time that Voldemort's snake Nagini attacked Arthur Weasley. We had him begin Occulmency lessons so that his mind would not be poisoned by Voldemort's schemes. We were so desperate to shield his mind from the link between them; it worries me to think that Voldemort has found a way to attack his body instead."

"Merlin preserve us," Minerva whispered in horror.

"Indeed." Dumbledor agreed in a grave voice.

All of the listeners in the room noticeably paled. So frozen by shock at the thought of what their leader was implying that the silent opening and shutting of the door went completely unnoticed. Except by a pair of ancient blue eyes that began to lighten just the slightest bit.

Perhaps all was not so lost as he had feared.

* * *

"Ron," Hermione hissed. "Did you hear that? Umbridge is going to end up getting Harry killed if they can't find out what's wrong with him!" She yanked viciously at the silvery cloak folds that pooled over the two of them, revealing them to the small abandoned class room they broke into after sneaking out of the Headmaster's office.

"She'll try to do it to. She'll find a way to get around Dumbledore's authority in order to get Harry locked up in St. Mungos," Ron agreed in a shaky voice. He looked so pale that Hermione was briefly reminded of the time that he'd been hit by his own backfired curse and ended up coughing up slugs.

"Are you alright Ron?" she asked worriedly.

"Fine. I'm fine. But what are we gonna do?"

"We're going to go to the library," Hermione muttered with a decisive nod.

"You're going to read at a time like this?" the red head demanded incredulously.

"We need a plan to help Harry get better, and for that we need information." Hermione whirled away to stare at the blackboard, thinking. Ron shifted to face her.

"We don't even know what's wrong with him, or what section to look in!"

"I told you, we need a plan. So here's step one. We research. We're going to sneak into the library tonight and start reading. First we're going to go through the potion and herbology section to find out what types of substances can be poisonous. There should be some books for that available in the regular sections. While we're in the library we'll start combing the restricted section for poisons and magical remedies. Any title we see that looks like it might have something to offer from the potions section we write down tonight. Tomorrow I'll go to McGonagall and ask for a pass to the restricted section. That way I'll be able to actually look up the books without getting into trouble."

"Why wouldn't we just sneak out the books that we need so we can read them and you can sneak them back later?" Ron demanded. "If we have to wait for a pass Harry could get worse. He's already been unconscious for a week, how much longer do you think he can last?"

"We can't sneak the books out of the restricted section," Hermione said.

"Sure we can," Ron argued. "And that'll be loads better than risking the teachers finding out that we know what's going on and getting mad at us for trying to get involved."

"No we can't," Hermione corrected a bit impatiently. "Madam Pince has those books hexed six ways to Sunday, and there's no way we'd be able to get them out the library without everyone in the school knowing what we're about."

"Oh," Ron deflated.

"Although, you may have a point about the regular library books," Hermione conceded. The words were spoken in the hope of wiping the somewhat dejected look off Ron's face, but as the thought grew in her head she began to warm to the idea. "We can get all the ones we need tonight. It's the weekend so we can stay up late. As long as we don't go to sleep before the library opens in the morning we could sneak all the books we take back in. That way we wouldn't risk anyone knowing what we were looking up."

Ron perked up a bit at the compliment. If Hermione hadn't been so worried about Harry and all the rules they were about to break she'd have thought it quite cute. The two of them huddled back beneath the cloak and began to make their way to the library.

"Come on, let's go."

* * *

A silent figure slipped into the infirmary, then came to stand over the pale form of the Boy Who Lived. A knife glinted dully in the half light of the room. The teachers and Madam Pomfrey were all in a meeting trying to figure out what was wrong with Harry. The spells around the infirmary would protect him from anyone casting a curse against him, but it would not prevent someone from raising a weapon against the vulnerable fifteen year old. Tsk.

Pop!

The figure jerked at the sound. Reacting, the person flung jumped onto one of the spare beds, pulling the covers up to seem as though a sleeping patient.

"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is here to watch over Harry while the adults are unable to do so! Oh Master Harry!" the house elf began to weep over the body of the poisoned boy.

"-obby," a weak voice called, and the house elf stilled immediately. "Dobby?"

"Master Harry Potter sir! Oh sir is alive! And he is calling for his Dobby! What is it sir needs? Anything for Master Harry Potter!"

Green eyes slit open slightly, fixing on the brown blur that was bouncing beside his bed in excitement. "I… I need… milk. Please… Dobby… ?" the voice trailed off and cloudy eyes closed, stiffening as the body became wracked with pain.

"Yes sir Dobby sir! Anything for the Great Harry potter!" And the little elf disappeared with a another loud '_pop!'._

The person in the bed tossed the covers away and hurried to the boy hero's side with knife in hand. This time there was no hesitation. Grabbing the boy's hand and slicing the palm, allowing his blood to flow into a small vial. The knife disappeared underneath dark robes and a wand was taken out, the spell faltered as Harry's eyes opened and he saw what was normally hidden behind glasses. Quickly muttering a sleep spell and a healing one, the person rushed from the room. Later hands would tremble at the memory of what had been in those eyes.

* * *

Chapter end notes: Thank you all for reviewing, they really encourage me. This story starts in the fifth book, and I'm trying to match it to the times of the book. Please be patient for a bit longer, the story will pick up eventually. 


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